236 The Wilderness Hunter. 



ened horses had to be hobbled and guarded. On another 

 occasion a large wolf actually crept into camp, where he 

 was seized by the dogs, and the yelling, writhing knot of 

 combatants rolled over one of the sleepers; finally, the 

 long-toothed prowler managed to shake himself loose, and 

 vanished in the gloom. One evening they were almost as 

 much startled by a visit of a different kind. They were 

 just finishing supper when an Indian stalked suddenly and 

 silently out of the surrounding darkness, squatted down in 

 the circle of firelight, remarked gravely, " Me Tonk," and 

 began helping himself from the stew. He belonged to 

 the friendly tribe of Tonkaways, so his hosts speedily 

 recovered their equanimity ; as for him, he had never lost 

 his, and he sat eating by the fire until there was literally 

 nothing left to eat. The panic caused by his appearance 

 was natural ; for at that time the Comanches were a 

 scourge to the buffalo-hunters, ambushing them and raid- 

 ing their camps ; and several bloody fights had taken 

 place. 



Their camp had been pitched near a deep pool or 

 water-hole. On both sides the bluffs rose like walls, and 

 where they had crumbled and lost their sheerness, the 

 vast buffalo herds, passing and repassing for countless 

 generations, had worn furrowed trails so deep that the 

 backs of the beasts were but little above the surrounding 

 soil. In the bottom, and in places along the crests of the 

 cliffs that hemmed in the canyon-like valley, there were 

 groves of tangled trees, tenanted by great flocks of wild 

 turkeys. Once my brother made two really remarkable 

 shots at a pair of these great birds. It was at dusk, and 



